User blog:Stormlilly/VI. You wait for what seem to be hours. So does the creature. The two of you, alone in all the world...
Perhaps that is the reason why you're here. Yes, something in your brain that is not entirely you adds - forlornly. You're alone here. Just you, and myself. You stare at the direction of the freak, about to open your mouth. Don't. I can't control myself if I hear your voice. I'll need to *grow* right in the *garden* if you speak with that voice... The words grow and garden are not words; but explosions of light and sound and color inside your mind. You see visions of mannequin-like figures that were once people, planted in rows of soil as if they were scarecrows. Lichens and molds drape off of them, nourishing themselves as their victims grow ever more despondant, caught in some sort of dreamscape. Is that what you did to them? You ask, unsure if you're speaking correctly. Slowly, laboriously, the figure nods. You can't tell by its face alone - but when it speaks... The creature is joyous. Yes! I saved them. As long as they continue dreaming, they're quite happy. Here, they are safe. They can *grow* with many friends, who will *grow* happily with them. You should also stay here with us. You can also *grow*. Blinking a few times, you manage to shake the vivid imagery of the fungal blooms exploding into vivid pastels on mottled flesh out of your mind. Would it be all right with you if I didn't stay and *grow*? You're uncertain what spurs you to ask - but the figure goes silent in response. You can hear its gasping, heavy breathing - and realize for the first time that it is in some sort of excruciating pain. ... Yes. Yes, yes. That's fine. You sure you won't try to stop me or something? You ask, fighting the urge to grin. Why would I? It's safe here. You'd be *very bad* to want to go up again. I'll nourish you, help you *grow*. Nothing *grows* up there. There are no *gardens*. It is much nicer down here. Are you sure you want to go..? I'm going. ''You ignore the resignation drifting from the creature - as far as you're concerned, it's some freak of nature, nothing else. Even if it's intentions are good, it takes everything in you not to put it out of it's misery. ''But... There's this weird thing - my arm has been itching... '' Once again, you aren't sure what spurs the comment, but the creature falls upon you - spindly arms holding you down with surprising strength as it's spade pierces and hacks at your flesh. You bite your lip as excruciating pain washes through you - and the creatures pulls a small, root-like thing from your shoulder. ''Many more *friends* like this one fell from the sky outside. You will die in great pain. You will die swiftly. You acknowledge it, even as something is used to sew up your wound with great haste. But that is the last communication between the two of you - for you've made up your mind. True to it's word, the creature lets you leave in peace. You can feel it watching you as you climb to what was once a gate that someone - or something - has recently unbarred. Outside, the rain stings your flesh - reminding you of how cold you were when you first woke up here. You know you aren't dreaming at least - and your life is yours to make. Perhaps you could have saved your friends - perhaps not. Perhaps you should've killed that creature. Or perhaps... Shaking strange ideas from your mind, you step onto the open road, noticing the wreckage of your car, still steaming acrid smoke. ... In the distance, the sound of air raid sirens and helicopters thrumming into the night breeze sends chills down your spine. But as you look into the brackish green mist hanging in the night air, you at least know that you are yourself - and whatever comes, you will face it on your own volition. Ending: ESCAPE Category:Blog posts